


Quid Latine dictum sit, altum viditur.

by BlueM00NWolf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe - Dark, Black Hermione Granger, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Cussing, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Ron Weasley, Desi Harry Potter, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Dramatics, F/F, Fluff, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Golden Trio, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), Wizengamot, everyone has a lot of titles because it may be cliché but I love those fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28037577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueM00NWolf/pseuds/BlueM00NWolf
Summary: *~What's said in latin, sounds profound.~*It's the first Wizengamot session of the year and sh*t's about to get real.New faces reveal themselves to Wizarding Britain's political landscape and they start making changes right away.Also known as: The Golden Trio goes darkThis is an idea that has been living in my head rent free for months now. There probably won't be a continuation, I just needed to get this out of my systemUpdate: Enough of you weirdos liked this that I decided to make it a series! Yay!
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Daphne Greengrass, Ron Weasley/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 61
Kudos: 253





	1. The court session that gave ol' Dumbles a stroke

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write my own version of the "x character shows off how many titles they have and people sit and gape" trope that shows up in a lot of dark hp stories, mostly because I like upsetting politicans. 😘
> 
> If this becomes popular enough I might add more to it, like Harry sending Lucius an official letter to ask for permission to court his son
> 
> (This letter of course, was the result of Harry dumping all his feelings down on a plate, Ron drafting it into a semi coherent message and Hermione writing it down because Harry may be the next dark lord but his handwriting is absolutely shit and he's emotionally constipated.)

As the last of the reporters and spectators sat down in the pews leading up to the floor of the great room of the Wizengamot that was used to house the first official meeting of the year -which was available to the public and therefore needed more space- the crowd's whispers faded away and the cameras stopped their feverish clicking.

The Chief Warlock, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, rose from his seat and made a grand sweeping gesture with his hands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is now officially time for us to begin the 1804th session of the Wizengamot!"  
Excited murmuring arose from the crowd before they settled down again.

"Our first order of business: I have been informed that our glorious ranks shall once again expand, as some old seats have been reactivated at the ministry."

Gasps and shouts were heard from the gathered crowd and even some of the most stone faced of Lords and Ladies lost their composure for a split second.

After the war many families completely dropped off the map, their successors unknown and their lineage muddled. To see one -if not more- of the ancient families reappear, completely unannounced like this, was almost completely unprecedented.

"Now, let all those who wish to claim their place show themselves or may their voices go unheard." With this, he motioned towards a side entrance to the hall.

The ancient scriptures upon the doors glowed with a soft golden light as a low humming noise filled the room. A large stone plinth rose out of the ground, with a singular golden bowl and a ritual dagger atop it.

The doorway slowly opened, as the crowds disruptions began anew and all the reporters scrambled to be the first to catch a glimpse of the new Lord or Lady to arrive so unexpectedly.

Under scrutiny from seemingly all of wizarding brittain, a woman -or more precisely, a girl, since she was still but a teenager- walked towards the middle of the hall, towards the newly erected podium.

She had dark skin, deep brown eyes, and long dark hair in tight curls cascading down her shoulders.  
She wore purple open front dueling robes with silver accents and a large black pendant with her house crest. The click of her dragonhide boots seemed to carry even over the din of the outrage and shock of those who knew who she was.

Albus Dumbledore paled as the young lady reached the middle of the room and stared up at him defiantly with determined, calculating eyes.

She delicately picked up the dagger, sliced into the side of her palm and seven drops of blood fell into the misty liquid stirring in the bowl below.

And then, she spoke,

And all hell broke loose.

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, hereby claim the Seat of The Most Ancient And Most Imperial House Of le Fay as Lady Head Of House le Fay." The ghostly visage of the animal of house le Fay, a beautiful and enormous bird, flew out of the bowl with a deafening caw. Signaling that the Wizengamot has accepted this claim. It swooped over the gathered crowd before coming to rest on the highest (and until now completely empty) ring of chairs before disappearing, leaving behind only the le Fay crest above a chair a bit to the right of the middle, signaling the Seat as neutral-leaning dark.

"I also lay claim to the Seat of The Most Noble House Of McKinnon as Lady Head of House McKinnon." The McKinnon hound leaped forward, barking and prancing around the room once before disappearing much as the previous one did. The chair got larger and more detailed as the second crest was added.

"I claim the Seat of The Most Ancient And Most Imperial House Of Ravenclaw as Lady Head of House Ravenclaw." As the eagle of Ravenclaw followed after the previous two, with her chair now bearing much more resemblance to a throne, the noise of the crowd became too much to bare and she glanced back up at Dumbledore before raising a single eyebrow expectantly.

" **SILENCE!** " The voice of the old wizard boomed over the gathering, the torches on the wall rattled and flickered at the sheer power and anger he exuded with a single word. He begrudgingly nodded his head towards her for her to continue.

"As the magic of the Wizengamot has accepted my claims, I hereby wow to serve wizardkind with duty, faith and honor till the day when I shall join you no more. So mote it be." The magic around them gave a final humm of approval before the Lady walked up to her seat and delicately sat down.

In the first row of the pews reserved strictly for -and spelled heavily to protect the identity of- heirs who wished to attend sessions without people knowing of their presence:  
A certain Malfoy heir sat in his seat, gaping open mouthed -all sense of decorum forgotten- at the scene in front of him, soundlessly repeating 'What the fuck' over and over like a mantra.  
To his right, Heir Zabini was laughing his ass off.  
Heir Nott was leaning forward with his chin rested in his palm, a hard look of concentration furrowing his brows, like when he'd stayed up for three consecutive days studying and somehow still managed to beat Draco at chess.  
Heiress Greengrass looked on with polite interest while internally already planning a proposal to the breathtaking lady le Fay.  
The other heirs were all in similar states of despair and unbelievable amusement as Headmaster Why Does He Have So Many Names tried to pretend that the world wasn't burning down around him.

But the session was far from over.  
_Oh no._  
Because the second it seemed like things would go back to normal, the halls rang with magic once more as another person stepped through the door.

If the Lady le Fay was an earthquake, then the next one was a volcano.

For he was none other, than a tall teenager with pale skin, bright blue eyes, ginger hair and a heavy smothering of freckles.

This was someone who almost everyone recognized.

_A Fucking Weasley._

In clothes that looked more expensive than most people's entire existence.

Fumbleslut almost fainted, Draco did, Blaise fell on his ass, Theo broke concentration, _Daphne gaped._

So basically, the session was going _great._

"I, Ronald Bilius Weasley hereby claim the Seat of The Most Noble House Of Weasley as Lord head of house Weasley."  
He took his sweet time going over both houses, giving just enough time for the crowd to recover from what they had seen so far, and after the animals and crests of Weasley and Prewett everyone expected him to move on. But he didn't.  
He looked Dumbledore dead in the eye, raising his chin slightly and smirking in a way that screamed 'Slytherin' and 'Trouble' to anyone who dared to look.

"I also hereby lay claim to the Seat of The Most Ancient And Most Imperial House Of Hufflepuff as Lord head of house Hufflepuff." His voice was steady and strong as he spoke. The badger of Hufflepuff pranced around the room before joining the other two crests. The moment it was added was when everyone saw how it had rised to be next to the Lady le Fay's chair. The realignment of three strictly neutral/neutral leaning light/just straight up light houses caused quite a bit of ruckus. Something that people quickly noticed however, was how wide the gap between the two chairs was. Large enough to fit another. The room seemed to glow with how many pictures were being taken.

"I hereby claim the Seat of The Most Ancient And Most Imperial House Of Emrys." Fumbleditch made a choking noise, Draco -who was now awake again- made a noise of pure agony as he realized that the boy in front of him had more political power than his whole family, Blaise looked way too interested in Lord Emrys all of a sudden, you could pretty much see the equasions flying around Theo and Daphne was, once again, staring at le Fay.  
"As the magic of the Wizengamot has accepted my claims, I hereby wow to serve wizardkind with loyalty, courage and wisdom till the day when I shall join you no more. So mote it be."

Ron, with a swish of his silver accented cobalt robes (open front, what else would it be?) and enough theatrics to put Professor Fucking Snape to shame, sat down in his seat.

Dumbledore was about to speak when the magic of the wizengamot grew thick and warm in the air, almost visible as one last figure stepped out.

For a split second everyone was too stunned to act, for a singular blessed second, even people's breathing seemed to stop. And all that could be heard, were his rythmic footsteps.

This was the last natural disaster. This was the fucking apocalypse knocking on your doorstep and inviting you over for afternoon tea.

He wore deep green outer robes with a black fur collar and elongated length that sweeped the floor like a cape, with black accents and inner robes in a vivid forest green. A golden medallion resting on his chest, the symbol of the Deathly Hallows carved into it.  
He was tall, but not as tall as Emrys, with soft, wavy black hair, killing curse green eyes and brown skin.

As he approached the podium the Chief Warlock broke from his trance and began screeching at a volume that would have put Molly Weasley to shame, all sense of his grandfatherly persona dropping to the ground.

" **YOU!** WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING BOY?!" The man's worst nightmare just lazily glanced up at his headmaster. Furious blue met cold hard green, and he spoke in a soft venomous tone that somehow made it over the crowds ghasps, the camera's flashes and clicks, the reporters and the light side supporters' screams.  
"I do not understand your question Headmaster. After all, I am the Lord of my houses. I'm simply just claiming my rightful place." Dumbledoo tried to retaliate, but realizing his position, snapped his jaw shut with a click.  
"Thank you. Now, back to business." he sliced his palm, let seven drops of blood fall, and then slowly and surely, as if he had more important things to do, he made a declaration that would shock wizardkind to it's core.

"I, Hadrian Jameson Charlus Potter-Black" Aaaand Draco fainted again " hereby claim the Seat of The Anchient And Most Noble House Of Potter," the Potter Griffin wasted no time flying up into the hall with an earsplitting call. "The Ancient And Most Noble House Of Black," the Black raven soon followed after.  
By now, everyone was loosing it, the dark side looked smug about the new power shift, even if they were truly panicking on the inside about how badly they have antagonized their new most powerful posible allies (*cough* Lucius Malfoy *cough*), the neutrals were free to show that they didn't understand what was going on, the light side was revolting and Fumbledoor was shaking with rage.

Lord Potter-Black just smirked and made a sweeping gesture with his hands, echoing Bumblewhore's earlier movements. "I hereby lay claim to the Seat of The Most Ancient And Most Imperial House Of GRYFFINDOR!" His voice rose to shout the last word, and the fabled lion of Gryffindor lead out a rumbling roar over the crowd.  
But, he wasn't finished yet.  
"The MOST ANCIENT And MOST IMPERIAL House Of SLYTHERIN!" he was shouting, but his voice still held a deadly calm aura. The snake of house Slytherin leaped forth from the bowl, coiling around its lord protectively before disappearing like the ones before it.

There were screams and shouts of foul play or 'next dark lord' even from some of the members of the Wizengamot themselves. Fumblydumbly even tried to get out of his seat to strangle the boy himself before his assistant managed to stop him by immobilizing him temporarily.

The young Lord Slytherin just let their insults and hatred roll off of him in waves, seemingly unbothered by it all.  
His voice didn't waver as he finished off his list.  
"AND THE SEAT OF THE MOST ANCIENT AND IMPERIAL HOUSE OF PEVERELL! AS LORD HEAD OF HOUSES POTTER, BLACK, GYFFINDOR, SLYTHERIN AND PEVERELL!" The Peverell thestral sprang forth and that, was finally enough of a presentation of power for people to get the memo. He was not to be trifled with.

"As the magic of the Wizengamot has accepted my claims, I hereby wow to serve wizardkind with honor, power and loyalty till the day when I shall join you no more. So mote it be."

Hadrian Jameson Charlus Potter-Black took careful measured strides as he walked up to his chair, looking over the faces of the Wizengamot members without ever sparing a glance at Dimblydumbly.

There, sat atop their thrones above a world of chaos the Golden Trio had all but one though.

Things were about to get interesting.


	2. Interlude, alias 'how we got from point A to point B'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well you did it, you crazy bastards. convinced me to actually continue writing. So here it is, a short interlude chapter for me to flex some writing muscles, since the first chapter was actually completed I while ago I just debated about posting it for about a month or two.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy this train wreck!  
> The session, and a bit of it's aftermath.

The rest of the court session passed on like normal, which is to say, boring enough to kill a man.

At least that was until none other than Lord Lucius Malfoy stood up to make a proposal.  
Now, the community appointed leader of the dark faction was actually a good politician, if we ignored his oversized ego and superiority complex. And about a good chunk of his less than pleasant personality and--

Point is, he was a smart man.  
Sometimes.  
And he felt the shift in power as much as anyone else.  
Usually, when the dark faction wanted to make a proposal, the person to present it was a member of the neutral faction, whether they agreed by bribery or because they actually agreed with the law proposed was neither here nor there, point was, the dark never made proposals since the whole Dork Lord Moldyshorts fiasco, and even before that they were almost always minor and happened sandwiched between other, more important proposals made by the other factions.

But not this one. Now, with an additional 12 seats active, that equaled up to a total of 29 votes, the dark had a major advantage over the other factions. If he played his cards right, he might be able to mend bridges with the newly announced lords and lady enough that they'd be less likely to try to usurp him immediately.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my associates and I have been doing research into some of the more important and deep rooted problems of our society, and we had come to realize something truly dreadful. And that is none other than the rate at which muggleborn and muggleraised witches and wizards disappear from our world.  
Now, when I read about this the first time I immediately tried to find the cause and spoke to some of the people who left myself. What I found was truly shocking.  
The witches and wizards I interacted with all seemed frustrated when I brought up this topic, and they were more than happy to let me know of their personal disappointment in our government. They felt that they didn't have a place within our world because they didn't understand it, and we haven't helped them learn about it in any way. The percentage of wixen who leave our world immediately after graduation is a worrying forty-five percent." Whispers spread through the room the second he brought up muggleborns. He couldn't fault them, after all he had always shown rather strong anti-muggle sentiments.

Lady Augusta Longbottom, the public appointed leader of the light faction, only after Dumbledore of course, rose from her seat in the middle of the light section.  
"Those are quite worrying findings Lord Malfoy. What do you propose we do about this issue?" He sent her a grateful look.  
"Thank you for the question Lady Longbottom. My proposal, would be a special organization made specifically to help young Hogwarts graduates find their place within out world. I am aware that the students already receive some help form their head of house, but one conversation truly isn't enough to guide them through everything, and this places those without any family ties and strong connections at an immediate disadvantage compared to magical-raised and many other magical-born children." He retook his seat and awaited the chief warlock's reaction.  
"Now, does anyone wish to second this proposal?" Dumbledore asked, with vaguely veiled malice.

"I do." There were audible gasps of shock from some as the lady le Fay stood up form her place above the crowd. He saw Dumbledore's eye twitch from his peripheral vision.  
"Well then, let's get to voting. First, those who agree with Lord Malfoy and... Lady le Fay's proposal, light up the tips of your want blue."  
Many people's gazes rose up to the top row where the golden trio held their wands, three iridescent blue lights glowing from the tips, their expressions blank and their masks impeccable.  
Everyone who was trying in vain to cosy up to the new lords and lady (read as: everyone) lit their own wands with a shimmering blue light.  
After that successful vote, the proposal got shelved to be revisited and refined at a later meeting.

It seemed like that was going to be the last exciting thing to happen that entire meeting. That was until the senior undersecretary of the minister of magic, a disgusting pink toad of a woman with a voice like nails on a chalkboard and all the charm of an autopsy, stood up and cleared her throat in that horrid and pretentious way that she liked to, and made her own proposal.

She got about three sentences in, explaining that she wanted to pass a law that would make the hunting and killing of werewolves legal, before there was a growl from the top row.

"Absolutely not." Lord Peverell was gripping onto his chair's arms and there was a prominent scowl on his face as he looked down on her with all the kindness someone would show a household pest.

Umbridge managed to stutter out the rest of her proposal, though she kept fearfully glancing back at the lord.

Finally, Dumbledore called a vote and everyone, sans the Minister and Umbridge, voted against it. Even the ones with well documented anti-creature beliefs.

That was seemingly all the excitement that this session could take, because after that there were no more proposals and everyone got to go on their merry way, certainly shaken up by all of the day's proceeding.

The causes of this ruckus, the former golden trio, tried to leave the Wizengamot halls as fast as they could once the session ended. This, of course did nothing to soothe the rabid flock of reporters chasing them as one enraged mob.

In an impressive feat of athletics, lord Emrys ran towards the floo point fast enough to have probably broken the sound barrier, and lady le Fay did a beautiful pirouette into lord Peverell's arms who then began running after Emrys. The display would have been rather comical, had it not been for the the grace with which this bullshit was performed.

Once reaching the floo point, lord Emrys opened up the connection, lord Peverell threw lady le Fay through the opening before the two lords left themselves.

Lord Malfoy looked on with an expression not befitting someone of his status, only to be snapped out of his stupor by the young Heiress Parkinson dragging a still comatose Draco by his foot. Pansy deposited the little mistake onto the floor before declaring that she'll "keep in touch" before primly walking away.

Lord Malfoy facepalmed and considered, if only for a brief second, the effectiveness of a self inflicted Avada Kedavra curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Hermione's parents are very supportive of their daughter's world domination plans.


	3. Hermione's parents are very supportive of their daughter's world domination plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Granger family fluff and shenaniganery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a funky ass double update because I'm going to be taking a bit of a break from this to write my current hyperfixatinon, the DreamSMP and just MCYT in general.

Jean Granger was happily working in the kitchen one sunny afternoon when her fireplace spontaneously cought on fire.

Now, for most people this may seem odd, and most likely a cause for concern. But for her? This was just another regular Monday.

"Hello sweetheart."  
Hermione Jean Granger-McKinnon, ever the graceful witch that she was, rolled out of the fireplace onto her face, and lay there for a few seconds before responding. "Hi mum."  
"Sweetie, you should probably get out of the way before the boys crush you."  
With a groan, she rolled over until she came into contact with the sofa.

It seemed that Mrs. Granger was correct once again, as the boys shot out of the fireplace in a mess of limbs almost immediately after.

She sighed and placed three stacks of pancakes on the dining room island, watching in amusement as the three teenagers sluggishly sat down in their bar stools trying to not fall face first into their food.

Seeing the normally energetic children in such a sorry state, she decided to speak up.  
"I take it the court session went well?"

This lovely question earned her three identical groans of pain from the teens.  
"Please Mrs Granger, don't get them started." Harry begged his almost aunt.  
"It was horrible mum! Everyone was so stuffy and stuck up! The only fun part was watching Dumbledore dying inside."  
Hermione pouted as she stabbed at some blueberries on her plate.  
"Yeah, I knew it was gonna be extremely stuffy but it was even worse. Bloody tossers, all of 'em." Ron was trying to stay awake by seeing just how many pancakes he could stuff into his mouth.  
"Language, Ronald. And I'm sure we'll read plenty about it in the afternoon prophet." She moved over into one of the large armchairs in the living room (perks of a modern open floor plan apartment!) to continue reading one of her novels.

Her lovely husband arrived back home from a friend's just as their owl- Hermione insisted they get one and her father, always a lover of animals (especially birds), had readily agreed- a pretty barn owl by the name of Buttercup landed on the open window sill with the special evening edition of the prophet.

Mr. Granger's eyebrows rose into his hairline as he continued reading.  
"Seems like you kiddos caused quite a bit of ruckus today." He cuckled around his fresh cup of tea. "We've gotta frame this picture of you Minnie dear, it'll go on the mantle with your graduation pictures!"

"Well, it seems like we're done with dinner so we'll go and wash up now!" Hermione stood from her seat abruptly and put everyone's dishes into the kitchen sink before grabbing the boys by their arms and dragging them upstairs."

"Weren't they going to stay down here for a little longer? Ronald promised me a rematch!"  
"Dearest I'm quite certain that he would have cleaned the floor with you again."  
Mr. Granger laughed and stood up from his chair to kiss his lovely wife's forehead before settling back down.  
"And I heard them discussing something about a letter? Earlier? So that might be what this is about."

In Hermione's room upstairs the newly nicknamed Chaos Trio (name still under debate, it was Harry's idea and he's horrible at naming things, let's hope he never has any children) were writing a rather important letter.

Well, it was more like, Hermione was writing, Harry was spouting nonsense and Ron was stuck translating Harryspeak to something normal people understood.

But never the less, the letter was written and delivered by Hedwig to a very important person.

All of Gryffindor and Slytherin house breathed a collective sigh of relief somehow knowing that they won't have to hear any more "Bloody Prick Malfoy" and "Stupid Perfect Goldenboy Potter" rants for the foreseeable future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: The Malfoys Are Extra™


	4. Malfoys do indeed flounce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco's dramatic, Lucius is tired, Narcissa isn't present because she felt the bullshit from a mile away and fucked off to go trim some rose bushes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me so far! Here's to a non sucky 2021! *Slorps down my kiddie champagne because I don't do alcohol*

"FATHER!" Draco threw the doors to his father's study wide open, hair frazzled and slightly breathless from a chance encounter with a savage peacock.  
"Yes Draco? I'm quite busy." Lucius just continued scowling at the documents in front of him, slowly swirling his wine glass with one hand.  
"You have a letter." He thrust his hand forward, and the older Malfoy's eyes cought on the green seal of Slytherin house adorning it.  
"Thank you for bringing this to me. Stay for a second. We'll see whether or not you'll need to fetch your mother."

He took the letter and gently opened it with his peacock feather shaped letter opener ™, taking a sip from his drink he began to read.  
This prooved to be a very bad idea as not even a second later he spat out his wine directly onto the floor.  
"HE WHAT NOW?" His already snow white complexion somehow managed to get even paler as he read on.  
Finally, after an excruciating two minutes, he closed it.  
"Well? What is it?" The younger blonde nervously eyed the offending piece of paper. What could it have been that managed to shake his father up so terribly?  
"It's... It's an official request for my permission to court you. From Harry Potter."  
"A WHAT FROM WHO?" Lucius just handed over the letter to his son, in which, clear as day, it stated that THE HARRY POTTER was interested in COURTING HIM.

_  
Dear Lord Malfoy,_

_I hope my letter finds you in good health, and in a calm enough situation to consider my request. I would like to formally ask for your permission in my endeavors to court your son Draco._

_Now, I know this may come as a shock to you, but I promise, I am completely serious and have thought this over multiple times. To be completely honest with you, it would only serve to benefit you to accept since there would be practically no drawbacks to a relationship between us._

_As you surely remember from the last wizengamot session I am currently the holder of no less than 5 seats. My estates and other assets are also wast and steadily expanding._

_I am, by all means and accounts, the most politically powerful and wealthy man in the interity of wizarding brittain (if not the whole world). I also have multiple ties to both the neutral and light sections and I am aware that you are actively trying to get back into their good graces after everything that happened during and following the last war._

_But, you might be wondering, what would I get out of this arrangement? It's rather simple._

_I'm doing this out of love._

_I have been in love with Draco for years without realizing it and now is the time for me to man up and admit my feelings._

_He always pushed me to improve wether or not he realized it and every single step of my way towards becoming who I am today has been influenced by his actions, from the day when he accidentally insulted my parents in Madam Malkin's at age eleven, up to today, when I sit and compose a letter that might change my life forever._

_I will not go into detail about my love, admiration and adoration for him since I feel that topic should be discussed between him and I alone but, do know that if you give me your blessings I promise to treat Draco right, and to always stand by his side and view him as my equal, as I always have._

_Should you accept my proposal, I expect to receive your reply by owl post at your earliest convenience._

_With respect,  
Lord Hadrian Jameson Potter-Black._

Draco looked about ready to faint as he finished before letting out the most undignified and most unmalfoy like squeel to be known to man.

He showed the letter into his pocket before sprinting over to the floo station and throwing himself into a fireplace.

"BLAISE HOLY FUCKIN- Hello Mrs. Zabini."  
"Hello Draco dear." Mrs Zabini, whole six feet five inches of terrifying regal lady that she was, didn't even bat an eyelash at the screaming blond french child that just emerged from a seemingly innocuous piece of furniture. "Carry on, my Blaise is in the drawing room."  
"Thank you Mrs. Zabini."  
. . .  
"BLAISE HOLY FUUUUUU-" Draco started sprinting like his life depended on it over to the Zabini villa's drawing room.

In the aforementioned drawing room, soft classical music played on the wizarding wireless as Blaise Zabini worked away on a canvas with not but a few pieces of charcoal and a vision.

His serene space was interrupted by a scion of house black ago most definitely inherited his ancestors' powerful lungs with how much air was flowing through his respiratory system at the current moment.

Draco, with well practiced decor kicked down his best friend's door.  
"BLAISE HOLY SHIT!"  
"Is it the resurrection of Voldemort or the sweet beginings of the end times that you're here to inform me of?"  
"I GOT A LETTER!" one eyebrow raise later (executed perfectly, because mama didn't raise no fool) Draco was scrambling to shove the letter into Blaise's face.

"Wow. Fancy that, someone can actually tolerate you."

"My dearest friend, oh how you wound me so." with an exaggerated twirl the blond collapsed into a nearby chaise lounge.

Blaise rolled his eyes at his friend's theatrics and just went back to drawing.

**Author's Note:**

> He he brain juice go slorp slorp


End file.
